


With DeLoria

by PaleGhost



Category: Fallout 3
Genre: Flash Fic, Fluff, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 13:57:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9274970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaleGhost/pseuds/PaleGhost
Summary: Some gentle fluff with a vague protagonist and certified tough boy, Butch DeLoria.





	

Sparks flew from the flint as it was struck by the piece of steel in Butch's hand. He grumbled angrily as he stared through the dark and down at the small fire pit he had made.  
“I dunno how ta' do this shit...” He mumbled to himself before striking the flint again, sending sparks into the bits of wood and dead grass he'd managed to find in this god forsaken desert. “I swear-” The greaser struck it again, and finally the bits and pieces of flammable crap he'd thrown into the pit set aflame. Without so much as a word of achievement he dipped down, blowing onto the lit embers in hopes the fire would start, and after becoming rather light-headed, he finally managed to get the fire to lick up into the air. Butch leaned back now, thankful that the fire was finally lit. It created a warm halo of glow around him, reaching out a few feet into the sand before the darkness took vision once more.  
Though there beyond that glow came the Lone Wanderer, weary eyes watching the newly lit fire as they entered the halo of warmth. They approached the edge of the small campfire and fell down onto their bottom, letting out a sigh as they pulled their hands from the pockets of the leather coat given to them by the barber at their side.  
“One can of pork 'n' beans.” The Wanderer spoke, reaching into the coat and setting down a tin can, the label reading as said. Butch was quiet for a moment.  
“That's all they were sellin'?” The hairdresser finally said. “You're sure?”  
“Yes, I'm sure, this was all they were selling. At least all they would give me for the caps I've got right now.”  
Butch didn't respond. The Wanderer quietly set down their pack and rifled through it, picking out a can opener and a small pot. They got to cooking the contents of the tin in silence. Finally, after a few moments, the Wanderer brought the pot away, the beans steaming and ready.  
“You still got the spoons?” The Wanderer inquired. Butch mumbled as he took his pack and looked through it, though he only pulled out a single spoon, tossing it over.  
“Guess I'll have to skimp out on this meal, or, whatever.” The greaser mumbled. “All us Tunnel Snakes need is guns 'n' liquor anyways.”  
“You're missing the latter.” The Wanderer said, smirking. “Though seriously, we can just share the spoon. No problem with it.”  
“There is a problem with it, actually.” Butch retorted, folding his arms over one another.  
“And what would be?” Replied the Wanderer.  
“Well, there's only so much beans, right, and you're the one with the big mission 'n' stuff. Me? I'm fine. Tunnel Snakes are meant to tough it out.”  
“Sounds too noble of you.” The Wanderer mentioned with a chuckle. “Remember you're with me on this 'big mission 'n' stuff' with me, DeLoria. Tunnel Snake or not, you gotta eat.”  
“You tryin' to say I'm a pipsqueak like you?”  
“Butch, No.”  
“C'mon, do I have to do everything, cut your hair, start fires, make you eat?”  
“Do I have to make you eat?” The Wanderer retorted, receiving an expression of frustration from Butch. The Wanderer took a spoonful from the pot of beans, eating them, before handing the pot over to Butch.  
“Nope.” He said.  
“Butch, you've seen me go days without eating before.”  
“Yeah, and now I care, okay? Eat the damn beans.”  
“Why now?”  
“I just do pipsqueak.”  
“I will force feed you beans if I have to.”  
“Don't you dare.” Butch replied, but the Wanderer had none of that, scooping up a spoonful and lurching over towards Butch, wavering the spoon in front of his mouth.  
“Come on! Open up!” The Wanderer told.  
“Gah! Stop it! You're gonna get it on my fuckin' Jacket!” Butch shouted in protest. Finally, after a moment of struggle, Butch reluctantly just took the spoon from The Wanderer and took the beans, though, he didn't swallow. The Wanderer arched a brow up at him in disbelief.  
“Really?” They said, watching Butch. Eventually he swallowed the beans, admitting defeat in the situation.  
“Fuck you, pipsqueak.” Butch grumbled. The two then proceeded to share the pot of beans, handing it back and forth, taking spoonfuls and near the end, Butch had insisted that the Wanderer finish of the last few bites. When it was finally finished off, The Wanderer and the Hairdresser sat there for a long, few quiet moments before someone finally spoke up.  
“So, Butch, you know what I've been noticing?” The Wanderer said, turning their gaze up to the greaser. “You've been trying to keep me away when we're getting into those fights...”  
“No I'm not.” Butch retorted bitterly.  
“You told me to get out of the way before you proceeded to try and hit a super mutant with a baseball bat.”  
“I thought it was a good idea, alright?”  
“It broke the bat and nearly killed you.”  
“Yeah! But it died first!” Butch tried to argue.  
“After I shot it in the head, Butch.” The Wanderer told, unimpressed. There was a moment of silence then, Butch averting his gaze from the Wanderers own. “You don't have to be worried about my well-being Butch. I made it on my own for a while-”  
“I'm not-...” Butch turned as he began, but when he saw the Wanderers expression, his words fell flat, and he sighed, running a hand over his mouth and up his cheek. “Maybe.. Maybe I care a bit, alright? I mean, Tunnel Snakes gotta look out for each other..” He told. The Wanderer was smiling now. “What? What?!” Butch said, becoming flustered now.  
“Oh, nothing, nothing.” The wanderer said, chuckling softly.  
“Don't laugh at me pipsqueak, just because you're a Tunnel Snake don't mean I won't rough you up...” Butch threatened. Though, the Lone Wanderer was unabated.  
“Here Butch, I may as well thank you for caring.” The Wanderer said, and leaning over to Butch, and they laid a gentle peck on his cheek, much to his confusion.  
“I-” Butch tried to begin, only being interrupted by the Wanderer.  
“There's a lot more to life than guns and liquor, Tunnel Snake.” They explained, before giving Butches shoulder a light shove. “Now get some sleep. We've got stuff to do tomorrow. No stopping for the 'big mission.'” And with that, the Wanderer lay down on their side, using their pack as a pillow as they zipped up the leather jacket, closing their eyes with a smile on their lips.  
Butch didn't quite lay down right away, trying to process what had just happened.  
“Eh... ye-... Yeah, sleep, whatever.” The hairdresser mumbled, laying down on his back with his arms folded behind his head. He didn't ever quite close his eyes, just sort of watched the stars until sleep whisked him off.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a very long time ago and didn't really touch it up, but should I write more? Lemme know!


End file.
